Two months later
MY PHONE BEEPS, ALERTING ME that my next tour is in fifteen minutes. I stare at myself in the mirror, squinting to see if I look any different. My hair is a little longer. My skin still glows from being outside most of the time, but it’s a healthy tan, not the deep tan I had on the island. Most importantly, my cheeks have filled out, one of the most visible signs I’ve gained my weight back.
My screen door at the front of cabin bangs slightly with the wind, causing me to blink and refocus. I set down the thing that just changed my life and go into my bedroom to slip on my hiking boots over my thick socks. I shrug on one of my dad’s plaids over my gray tank top and smile slightly as it grazes the bottom of my shorts, tickling my legs.
Wearing his clothes always feels like he’s giving me a hug.
At first, when I moved out here it was weird. I felt as if I was living in a mausoleum. Everywhere I looked there was a memory, something that reminded me of him. I still don’t sleep in his old room, the biggest room in the cabin. Instead, I moved back into my childhood room.
I did refurnish the cabin once I got a hold of my things. Now the cabin is a blend of my father and me. Everything I kept reminded me of the best times. I even took up his hiking tour business. His cabin borders one of the larger lodges on the lake and they were more than happy to take me on full-time in place of my father. Especially since I helped out during the summer in my teens.
I always thought of Seattle as home, but being back here with old neighbors and my old job…this is home. The feeling of being adrift, even before my father passed, is gone. I can’t believe I left in the first place. Jamie comes down every other weekend to hang out, so he says, but it’s clear he’s checking up on me.
I don’t mind, though. It’s always nice to have someone who cares showing that they care. Mostly we sit on the dock in the Adirondack chairs my dad built and talk. We talk more now as friends then we ever did when we were together. It’s shocking to know that I would have married this man, this stranger.
I never knew this Jamie, he never knew this Taylor, and now it’s clear we would always be better as friends. When I first came here, I felt as if I was sleepwalking through life. Even after my failed attempt to shake myself up with removing the familiar in order to find a life and myself. The irony here is that only when I went back to all that was truly familiar did I find myself.
Scooping my hair into a high ponytail, I shake off my thoughts and leave the cabin, the screen door slamming behind me. The walk through the woods to the lodge is a well-worn path. I wonder if my feet are finding the same places to land as my father. My eyes close as a breeze snakes its way through the trees, ruffling leaves and teasing my hair.
The birds chirping and the smell of fall approaching are all I need. I blink open my eyes and look up at the swirl of yellows, reds, and oranges flirting with the leaves; it gives me a tiny thrill. I’m so thrilled to be done with summer.
My feet go from silence to a crunch as I enter the property and walk on the stone path up to the back of the lodge. It looks up among the trees, blending in with the forest rather than pushing the forest out of the way. It’s a beautiful Tudor style home, unlike the traditional lodge, and lends itself to a more elite clientele.
When I reach the pool, I notice a young boy of about six running out of one of the changing rooms in blue swim shorts and bright yellow water wings on each arm. His exuberant cry as he launches himself into the water brings a smile to my face. Such unadulterated joy is catching and I take the smile with me inside, along with the picture of a cute, dark haired little boy cannonballing into what has to be cold water.
My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jean shorts and I reach for it as I wave to Peter at the front desk, letting him know I’m here and ready for my group. Looking down, I see that it’s Jamie calling and my hand hovers over the decline button before I give in and answer.
“Hey, Doc.” I greet and grin when I hear his grumbling on the other end. For someone who’s worked for years to become an M.D., my nickname surely aggravates him.
“Taylor, what did I say about leaving your door wide open?” he chastises.
“Are you already here? Damn, you made really good time. I wasn’t expecting you for another three hours.”
“Don’t ignore me,” Jamie says in such an aggrieved voice, I have to laugh.
“Sorry, sorry. I know, but I only left it open so you could just go straight there and settle instead of waiting for me to finish up here.”
“You’re such a—” he cuts off with a gasp and my hand tightens over the cell.
“What?”
“Taylor Jane McKay,” he whispers sharply, and I tense further.
“Uh oh, middle name. Tell me what I did so I can apologize already.”
“Why are there several gossip magazines starring our own billionaire on the cover stacked in your bathroom? Are you torturing yourself?”
My stomach bottoms out and I curse myself for leaving in such a rush that I didn’t take care of the evidence. “Um—”
“Are you ok? Having trouble sleeping?” he asks immediately and I bite my lip at the concern in his voice.
“Jamie—”
“I know you want to jump back into a routine, but I think you need to talk to someone. Are you still having nightmares?”
“Jamie, I’m about to be at work, I don’t have time for this conversation.”
“Fine, but we are talking about this,” he says sternly, and I roll my eyes.
“Bye,” I say in response and hang up.
Later when I get home, Jamie is waiting for me. Like, literally waiting outside on the steps—waiting for me. Exhaling loudly, I take a seat next to him on the porch steps and watch the sun dance on the water as it begins to set.
“God, Taylor, have you looked in a mirror lately?” he asks quietly and lean back on my hands.
“God, Jamie, is this how you talk to women?” I counter, mimicking him.
“Can you please cut the bullshit? When was the last time you got more than three hours of sleep?”
I lift a shoulder, unwilling to admit I haven’t slept a full night since the island. In the months that have passed, I’ve had no direct contact with East. I specify direct because while I haven’t spoken to him personally, I’ve seen him everywhere. On the covers of magazines, on every network morning show—they even did a profile on his experience lost at sea.
He’s been everywhere and nowhere.
I’ve watched, trying to stay as removed as possible, as he turned back into the East on the yacht. The confident businessman, the sexy bachelor, the beautiful father and brother. He seems to have slid right back into his life. Happy, whole, and surrounded by love. Even Henry’s mother has made her reappearance. They’ve been photographed together in numerous tabloids.
It’s hard to reconcile the East I know and everything he’s told me with the East I’m seeing now. He’s not worse or really all that different.
But he’s not mine.
There’s been a lot of speculation about the two of us. A lot of speculation about me. I’ve watched as people speculated about me, some sympathetic and some vicious. One reporter wondered if maybe I orchestrated the entire thing in order to trap East. After all, trying to entrap East VanHouten happened to him before.
My reputation and details about my life have been splashed all over the media, but I’ve still managed ambiguity. In many parts because of the man sitting next to me and the love this town has for my father and me. People I never knew I had shrouded me from the scavengers. My life wasn’t theirs to dissect.
“Taylor?” Jamie prompts.
“I don’t know,” I admit, rubbing my eyes. The grit and dryness of them is enough to tell me Jamie’s right to be worried.
“Do you think you should talk to him?” he asks softly.
“And say what?” I say tonelessly, collapsing onto the couch.
“You’re acting like the two of you didn’t spend an inordinate amount of time by yourselves for weeks. Were you unable to talk to him then? Help me understand.”
I pat the space next to me, tired of having him loom over me. Jamie sits down, turns to me, and waits. I consider just ending the conversation, but maybe if he understood he’d leave me alone about it.
“Being on that island…we were completely isolated from all the social anxieties and expectations of life in general. The only thing we had to do was survive and stay sane. You really get to know someone in that situation because there’s no place for pretense. You have to be honest all the time because if you don’t have that partnership, that trust, you could die. I trusted him with my life. I don’t have that with anyone.”
Jamie winces and I grab his hand. “You have to understand. Of course I trust you and I believe you would do anything for your friends, but it’s never been tested so, as much as I would hope you would do the same, I know for a fact East would. It’s as simple as that. I trust him with my life because he saved mine.”
“So why is it so hard now?” Jamie asks, giving my hand a squeeze.
“Because, back in the real world, I don’t know who we are anymore. He’s got all this responsibility on his shoulders; he lives in a totally different world than I do. I don’t know this East. He’s a stranger, and after everything I’ve been through, I don’t know if I can trust this version of him. He’s unfamiliar.”
“To be fair, Taylor, you’re assuming a lot. You ran away that day we left the hospital. You have no idea who he is off the island, I agree with that, but assuming he’s totally different isn’t fair. Are you a different person?”
I shake my head, my stomach dropping slightly.
“I think you need to talk to someone, Taylor. Your father’s death, quitting your job, breaking up with me, then everything that has happened after… I mean, Jesus, Taylor! I need to talk to someone about all this and I haven’t really gone through it. You wake up almost every night from nightmares and those are the days you actually are able to fall asleep.”
“The sound machine is helping.”
“Reading all these gossip magazines, reading these lies, are feeding you insecurities. You need to talk to him.”
I lean forward as tears rush to my eyes, stinging them and I blink rapidly. My body aches, bones tired from forcing this routine on my exhausted body. I’ve been lying to myself for quite awhile. It’s not East I’m afraid of, it’s myself. What if I ruin things again? My life is a disaster. What if he wants nothing to do with me? Much easier to reject someone before being rejected.
Live, squirrel.
Ah, Dad. I miss you so fucking much.
Wiping my eyes, I turn my head slightly and look into Jamie’s concerned eyes. I’m not ignorant; I know he’s visiting so often because he’s worried about me—and he has every right to worry. I may have filled out and give the appearance of healthiness, but one look in my eyes and you know things are not all right. It’s why I’ve been unable to look in a mirror for longer than a second.
I know what I’m doing to myself.
“Ok,” I whisper softly and watch as his shoulders sink in relief.
“I’ll help you find someone tomorrow. Let’s get some dinner.”